What Matters
by ttfan111robstar1
Summary: Robin has a nightmare in Jump City and decides to visit Gotham. Daddy Bats fluff all around.


**Author's Note: Well, what do you know? I'm posting again. I have been posting but It's been on for MLP Stories. So if you like ponies, check me out on there under FabulousDivaRarity. It has been forever since I've done a Batman or TT fic. But this was very fun for me to write. I enjoyed it a lot. Reminder to you all that I am also now taking commissions! See my page for guidelines and stuff. I hope you all enjoy this story!**

I sit on the roof of Titans Tower. It's morning, a warm morning in spring. The sun is just high enough to make the sky blue, no trace of the sunrise left in the sky. It is very early. Maybe six in the morning. I am the only one awake right now. I like it that way. I love being with my friends, but sometimes I need time to myself.

This morning is different from other mornings. Sometimes it's because of _that_ day. The day my parents died. But that's not it. This morning, something else is weighing on my mind.

Batman. Or, more specifically, Bruce. My Dad.

Our falling out was months ago. I think about it from time to time. Usually before bed. To wake up with the thoughts, that's a new one for me. I don't communicate with Batman here. I haven't before. But last night… Last night got me thinking.

The nightmare was surreal. The death of my parents, the sudden deaths of my friends at the hands of Slade, and the death of my adoptive father. The last one was what startled me into wakefulness. I breathed heavily, calming myself down by thinking on good memories with him. The times I had nightmares as a child and he comforted me. The days we spent together playing. The charity events we went to, making fun of the people with funny accents and snooty faces. The times he said he was proud of me. The first time he called me son.

Now, with those memories swimming in my mind, I wonder, did I forget all of that? Was I so obsessed with not being a sidekick anymore that I let everything else go? Did I forsake my secret identity, and by extension, my father? Where along the line did I lose all of this? And when I lost it, did I lose it for good?

The questions haunt me. They poke and prod at me. They hit sensitive spots with me. And I realize very quickly that I won't be able to let this go without knowing. Much as I want to be independent from him, I need to talk to Batman. I can't not know, or it will drive me to insanity, an even worse insanity than what Slade drew me into.

I make my decision. I need to go. When I go down to the living room, Cyborg is awake. I must have been out there for an hour. I tell him that I'm going out for the day, and should be back tonight. He looks bewildered, but says okay. I ask him to tell the rest of the team. He nods. I go to my room and pack some things. Civilian clothes, snacks, and some money. Then, I go and get on my R cycle.

I peel out of the tower, into Jump City. Occasionally I glance back and see the tower getting smaller. First it was bigger than me. Now it is a speck on the horizon. I ride through the city, on a quiet morning. None of the villains are out yet, and the city is peaceful. I like it that way.

I pass through Jump into another city, and when I hit a gas station In between the two, I stop. I leap onto the roof with a grappling hook, and then go into a bathroom window, backpack on my back. I lock the door, and change out of my uniform and into my civvies. I pack my costume into my bag, unlock the door, and I come out of the window. I fuel up my bike, pay, and move on.

It takes me a while to get to Gotham City. But when I do, it's as familiar to me as breathing. The path to Wayne Manor is clear, and I follow it. When I finally see it, I feel a cocktail of emotions. Fear, Anger, Joy, Comfort, Guilt, and a sense of home. When I reach the gate, I let my bike idle, and type in the code, before they open, and I go in, closing them behind me. I pull my bike up to the garage, type in another code, and it opens. The limo is there. Good. It means Bruce isn't at work yet. I park my bike, shut the garage, and I go around to the front door. I wouldn't disrespect Alfred by not using the front door.

I ring the doorbell, and I wait. Maybe two minutes later, it opens. Alfred is there, his white hair, mustache, and black suit unchanged. It comforts me, seeing that. The man is unchanging, and that brings me hope. If he didn't change, maybe Bruce hadn't either. Alfred looks unmoved. But I can tell he is surprised. The slight arch in his eyebrows, the very brief, almost nonexistent look of awe in his blue eyes. And then, he smiles, looking like he used to when I was a kid. Back when I was Young Master Dick, and he was my Alfie. He was more like a grandfather to me than anyone, even Pop Haley. When he smiles at me, I know he's genuinely happy.

"Good morning, Master Richard." He says to me. I smile.

"Hi Alfred. Is Bruce home?"

"In the study, Young Master."

I break into a grin. That brought back some memories. He opens the door for me, and I smile as I pass him. "Thanks, Alfie."

He pretends he hates the nickname, but I can see the smile hinting at his lips.

The walk to Bruce's Study is a long one for me, maybe the longest walk of my life. The walk on my road to answers. I have had many long walks in my life, but this one is different. There is no pain to dull my senses. Instead I am alert. Highly alert at that. I can feel the plush of a rug under my shoes, the way it sinks underneath my weight. I hear the echo of Alfred's footsteps along the hardwood of the foyer. I see the dark, cherrywood walls of the manor I called home for so long, and see the glint of light on the varnish. I can smell the lingering scent of lemon pledge that is used on the wood, and I can taste the breakfast Alfred must have made when I pass the kitchen. But finally, I reach the doors.

I almost hesitate. But I swallow my hesitation, my worry. I push open the heavy wood door. It doesn't creak when I open it, like it used to when I was here last. A cursory look around the study shows me nothing has changed. Books line the walls, a computer, papers, and a few pens line the desk, along with a lamp. A printer and fax machine are on the shelf behind the desk, and a few pictures there too. One of the city skyline, and one of him and myself after a charity event.

Bruce is at his desk. He's scrawling something- likely his signature- on a large stack of forms. I blink. I don't ever remember him bringing his work home with him. At least, not his business work. He sometimes took his hero work upstairs, but not this. He doesn't look up at me, but I know he knows I'm there. He's always intuitive like that. Maybe it's his bat senses, maybe it's his paternal instincts. But he knows.

I step in and come to his desk. "Hey Bruce."

He finishes signing a paper with a flourish, then he looks up at me. His blue eyes aren't stony, like they were when I left. They're warm. Almost happy.

"Dick, is something wrong?"

That was Bruce. No touchy-feely stuff from him, just straight to the point. No beating around the bush. I pull up a chair, and sit across from him.

"Kind of." I say. The words come out of their own accord.

"Something wrong in Jump?" He asks.

I shake my head. "No, nothing like that."

He sees that I am contemplative. He waits patiently for me to speak again. He won't pressure me about it, because I think he feels a bit like he's walking a mine field, talking with me. He doesn't want to start a fight, and I don't want to either.

"I…" Words vanish from my lips. "I have a question for you."

"Sure. Anything."

"Am I… Am I still your son?"

Bruce freezes for a second. And that never happens. Not as Batman, Not as Bruce. He's a man of action, not hesitation. He seems to be searching for something in my face. He finds it, whatever it is, and his posture relaxes, from a business man to a father. I haven't seen that part of him in a long time. I don't think I've seen it since the time I was being bullied at Gotham Academy. It loosens something inside of me, seeing that.

"Dick," He begins. His voice has transformed from business like to paternal. "You will always be my son. You may not be my partner anymore, but you will always be my son. That will never change. I understand why you left, and I respected your need for space and independence, but just because you aren't my partner doesn't mean that you will ever not be my son. The day I adopted you, I knew exactly what I was getting into. I wanted you to be my son from that day until the day I die. That doesn't end because you left. It doesn't end period. Do you understand?"

I nod, and shift a bit in my seat. For a few seconds, there is quiet. Then he asks me, "What brought this on?"

I open my mouth but no sound comes out. Then, I speak. "A nightmare. Sort of. It was just a catalyst. I had a dream that you got killed, along with my friends and… Them. And when I woke up, I started thinking about you to calm myself down. The time we spent together. And when I woke up this morning, it made me think. Was I so desperate to get out of your shadow and make a name for myself that I forgot all of that? In my quest to get away from Batman, did I try and get away from you too? Did I… Did I lose you?" My voice breaks, and I try and cover it with a cough, but It's useless because Bruce knows. He always knows.

"You didn't forget anything." He says quickly. "Did you think about the fact that the reason you felt so free to fight with me was because you remembered all of that? You can only get mad at someone you really care about, and who you know cares about you the same way."

"I-" I hesitate. "…No, I didn't think of that."

"And Dick, you will never lose me. No fight, no distance, and no time, can take me from you. Even when I die someday, I'll still be there. I'm in your memory, in your mannerisms, in your goals. They say our lives are remembered by the gifts we give our children. I tried to give you what I didn't have: I tried to give you a parent, a father, a teacher, and a hero. I tried to give you someone to look up to. I tried to give you the best parts of me."

I stared up at him for a long moment. Bruce never danced around a subject, so when he spoke, it was always sincere. But I didn't need that to know what he said was the truth. It shined in his eyes, and they were shimmering like prisms, like he was going to cry, but that never happened. Bruce didn't cry. I looked at him, and I saw only the truth.

"You did."

"What?"

"You did give me the best parts of you. You taught me about justice, about what being a hero means, what being a good man is. You spent your entire life dedicating yourself to helping people, in and out of costume. Me being the least of them. I learned so much from you. But the thing you taught me the most about is family. You showed me that family is something you create. It can be built, and it can be found in unlikely ways. Actually, you gave me two families. You gave me our family with Alfred, and you gave me my bat family."

Bruce smiles a little. Seeing that smile, in or out of costume, still felt like winning the lottery.

"I won't leave you, Dickie." He says.

That old nickname stirred up a lot of hidden emotions for me, as well as memories. Flashes of Bruce comforting me after my first nightmare, him helping me to learn to grieve over the loss of my parents, myself calling him Dad for the first time and his face lighting up. That nickname lit me up inside. It showed me that I wasn't lost. I had just gone off of the path for a while, but now I was back on it. I looked at Bruce, and in a move that I'm not sure might have surprised him, crossed to the other side of the desk, and gave him a hug.

"I love you, Dad."

I feel his strong arms wrap around me in a comforting embrace. For a moment, I am nine years old again, and Bruce is comforting me after a nightmare. I feel small in his hold. I shut my eyes, and for a heartbeat, I am not Robin, leader of the Teen Titans. I am Dickie Grayson, Bruce Wayne's adopted son, and his little boy.

"I love you too, Dick. And I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn't." His voice is unusually thick, like he's trying to fight tears.

That does me in, and I start to cry. The build up of months of emotions of anger, sadness, fear, guilt, self-righteousness, all come to a head for me. I sob into Bruce's- No. I sob into my father's chest. He holds me, strokes my hair. He doesn't say anything, but the fact that he's _here_ , that he's the one holding me and comforting me after all we've been through, speaks volumes.

I don't know how long I stayed like that. It felt like years. But eventually, the tears dammed, the sobs stopped, and the shaking ceased. I now held onto him because I wanted to. It wasn't for comfort anymore. It was because I wanted to impress upon him how important he was to me. And I think my holding him was a comfort to him. I think maybe with my leaving and cutting all contact with him, I made him feel like he wasn't needed. That I had learned all I could from him, and was ready to kick him to the curb, like an empty soda can. But that wasn't true. I would always need him, and I know he still had so much more he could teach me.

He held me for a long time. I didn't think he would ever let me go. And maybe he didn't want to. I didn't want to either, to be honest. Being wrapped in a bear hug by him was the first time in such a long time I'd let anyone have physical contact with me that wasn't a handshake, high five, or some form of fighting. I couldn't remember the last time I had been held like this, the last time I let my guard down so much. I couldn't do that in Jump. There I was all Robin, all the time. But here, in this manor, I was more than just Robin. I was Dick Grayson. In the halls of this manor, I was a son. I didn't have to be anything more than that. Nobody was counting on me to hold them together. There were no imminent threats of violence to keep me on edge, and I didn't have to be strong all the time. For a while, I could be weak. I could let my guard down. I could be… Me. Nothing more. And that was enough for Bruce. Maybe it should be enough for me too.

Finally though, the hug ended. I pulled away first. Being still for too long made me antsy. But when I pulled away, Bruce had the biggest smile on his face. I don't think I had ever seen him look this happy. Not in all the time I've known him. I cocked my head to one side.

"Why are you smiling so hard?" I asked him, not that I was complaining.

He was still smiling as he shook his head. "Somehow, Dick, you always know exactly what I need."

I grinned at him, and said, "I learned from the best."

He laughed. That sound was as rare as a diamond in a slab of stone, and as warming as the summer sun. It was like drinking sunshine, the way it warmed me, lit me up, filled me with joy.

"Glad I taught you something."

I looked at him semi-seriously. "You taught me everything I could have needed."

Bruce raised a brow. "Everything? I don't think I taught you how to be emotional. That was all your parents doing. Actually, I _know_ I didn't teach you that, because being raised by a British gentleman like I was means you don't know how to do that, and you can't teach what you don't know."

It was my turn to laugh now. "Maybe that means I taught you something."

His look turned serious instantaneously. "You taught me so many things, Dick. More things than you will ever know."

I blinked. "Like what?"

"You taught me how to be a father. You taught me that there was more to life than just justice. You taught me that there was reason to smile again. You taught me how to care about someone, how to love again."

"I taught you that?"

"You did."

"Not the women you date?"

"They don't last. Not like you."

"They could last. You don't want them to. But I'm kind of glad they don't. I don't think I'm ready for a mom yet."

"I don't know if any woman alive could handle having Robin as a son. I guess you're stuck with me then."

"Yep. World's greatest detective, and the World's greatest dad."

Bruce grinned again. I liked seeing him smile like that.

"How long are you staying?" He asked me.

"Just for today. I have to get back to Jump tomorrow. You know better than I do that crime never takes a day off."

"Don't I know it?" He shook his head. "I still get angry when I think about the fact that the Joker decided to Rob a few banks on your first Christmas with me."

"I remember that. We had to stop in the middle of opening presents." I grimaced.

"At least that one turned out okay."

"Very true." I said. Usually it didn't end so well.

Bruce seemed to shake that off. "I'm glad you're here, Dick."

I smiled. "Me too."

"Is there anything you want to do today?"

I blinked and my smile dropped in surprise. "Don't you have to work today?"

Bruce shrugged. "Just an early start on a contract with a new business partner. It's nothing that can't wait. What matters right now is you."

My grin returned. "Really?"

"Really."

I considered this for a minute. "Can we hang out here?"

He nodded. "Sure."

I gave him another hug.

We spent that day doing things together. We played chess, cards, even did a few sports in the backyard. Alfred, for his part, looked extremely happy to see us together again, and to see us doing things out of uniform. He cooked both of our favorite meals, and he actually ate with us- which he literally never does. He usually says it goes against a butler's role. But today he made an exception. I'd like to think that he did it because I was here. Maybe the bonding got to him too. Whatever the reason, I was glad.

I think after forming the Teen Titans, I considered them friends and a sort of family. We all melded together in a sort of mish-mash of heroes. And I think being with them for so long made me forget what it felt like to be with the family who took me in in the first place. There was a subtle difference between them, something I can't place even if I wanted to- and I do. There was cashmere comfort in being back at Wayne Manor, though. It was my first home. I considered the circus the same, but the circus wasn't technically a house. Back then, I lived in a trailer, and I loved it just the same. But Wayne Manor was a home- the first actual house I ever lived in. Maybe that's why I saw it that way.

In any case, that day was magic for me. I think it was good for me, to reconnect with my family, and to take a day away from being Robin. I needed that reminder that I was more than just a superhero. I was a son too. And I think I forgot that for a while. But now I remembered, and I wouldn't forget it either.

Unfortunately, the day rapidly came to a close. Around nine that evening, I decided it was time to go. Batman had a city to patrol and Robin had to be back in Jump tomorrow to resume his superhero life. I took a long walk around the manor before I told Bruce that I had to leave. I ran my fingers over the smooth mahogany staircase as I made the way to my old room. When I opened the door, everything looked the same as when I left. From the red comforter on the bed, to the posters on the walls, the awards on shelves, and the pictures on my desk. I sat on the bed, stroking the smooth silk of the comforter. There were so many memories here. Good, bad, and in between. But it was concrete. A place of refuge after a long night of fighting or a long day at school.

I walked into the connecting bathroom, and that was still the same, from the toothbrush in the holder, the shower stocked with my shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, the medicine cabinet full of first aid supplies, and the hair gel on the counter. Seeing all that unchanged after so long made me wonder if Bruce never came in here, or if he did, why he never moved anything. Being Robin made me a fairly good profiler after all the villains I've faced over the years, but even without those skills, I could read Bruce pretty well. I think he tried to preserve it so he could preserve my memory. It was like he thought he would never see me again. That made me ache.

I visited the study, the kitchen, and the last stop was Bruce's room. I came in here pretty often as a kid. Whenever I had nightmares, he would let me sleep with him if I needed it. Occasionally after we both woke up in the morning and he didn't have to go into work yet, Alfred would bring us breakfast in here, and we'd eat and talk, laughing, or in Bruce's case, grunting. Bruce was never a morning person, but he tried for me. That meant the world to me. I laid on the pillow for a minute. The California King bed was huge, like laying in a padded ocean. I could smell Bruce's scent in the pillow. I tried to commit it to memory to last until the next time I saw him. Then, I sighed, got up, and went to the living room.

Bruce was waiting for me there. I wasn't shocked. He knew me all too well. I had my backpack on my shoulders, and I looked at him, and we stared for a second in silent tableau. Then:

"I'd better get going. It's going to be a long drive home."

Bruce nodded. "I understand."

I walked over to him and gave him a hug. "I'll come and see you soon. Or you can stop by anytime."

He hugged me back, and said, "I'll keep that in mind."

I sighed. "Thanks for a great day, Dad."

"Anytime, son."

He smiled at me one last time, and I headed out to the garage. I hopped on my bike, and pulled out from the garage. Alfred opened up the gate for me, and I smiled at him, he smiled back, his own way of saying goodbye. I pulled out of the gate and down the long driveway. Just before I hit the street, I took a look back.

That was home. That was family.

With a small smile, I drove off into the night.


End file.
